Crimson Butterfly
by Locus Solus
Summary: How do you escape your dream? How can you fight a nightmare? What if you can't?
1. I don't want to see anymore

Sorry guys, college hit me hard. Don't worry about That's Not My Name. I am working on it with all my heart and soul.

So if you've ever heard/played Fatal Frame I think you may like this. I just recently got into Fatal Frame and the storyline gave me a brilliant idea.

Let me know what you think, please, okay?

* * *

Two people out of my line of vision grabbed my wrists. My legs were swiped out from underneath me by a quick and powerful blow. The sickening sensation of being airborne rose in my chest before the stone ground slammed into my back. My lungs tightened, leaving me gasping weakly for air. A voice in the back of my mind pounded against my skull but the words were ignored, lost in the numb feeling that slowly took over me and my mentality. My limbs were being pinned to the ground with unnecessary force, I hadn't the slightest of whether or not I should struggle. Maybe I am already struggling, I feel my limbs being pushed down like my captors' lives depended on it. My curiosity isn't strong enough to will my eyes to gaze upon the faces of the people that occupied the room. I caught bantam glimpses of those who were hold me out of the corners of my eyes. Are they children?

The cold, gray ceiling above me became my focal point. The ground pulsed beneath me as a strange chant began, echoing in the cave. I can hear metal clashing against metal in sync with the rhythm.

I had waited. I'm still waiting for them to come like they promised. I'm waiting for you to come lead me, my soul, back home. Show me that my blood still runs through these veins and that I have not died and gone to Hell to be in the care of these fuckers.

Sleep, they tell me. Close my eyes and lie in peace. My skin burns as though my body is on fire but I do not cry out. Something rough yet sharp is being pressed into my hands and I feel a similar pressure on my my feet. It doesn't trigger an alarm in my mind so I'm not worried. Odd as it may be, I feel rather apathetic to this danger. I'm more concerned with the tall figure towering menacingly over me. His face is shadowed, making his facial features indistinguishable, but he is not unfamiliar to me. I know very well who this person is and they know who I am. We go way back.

I didn't want to come back. I wanted to live on and forget this place, never to set eyes on it again. I thought it was possible. I wanted to stay where the wind didn't whisper its candy coated lies to me, brushing my face and tempting me so. I didn't want to be condemned.

The figure knelt down upon my torso, making it even more difficult to breathe as I tried to remain as calm as possible in front of him. In front of the world. He placed one knee on either side of my chest, settling himself. I could hear him breathing as he drew closer. His placid face came into view as gelid fingers curled around my neck, pressing on my throat. I matched his heavy eyes, trying to read his expression, to see what he was feeling and/or thinking. He remained emotionless and indifferent. Unfazed. I felt put off and. . . disappointed? The pressure on my hands and feet increased and the beat began to speed up.

I had a question for the world, but there was not an answer to be found no matter where I searched. I gradually became nothing from the prolonged lack of a response.

And then I met you. You pulled me out of the nothing I had become. You gave me a moment to be real, to feel as though I actually belonged somewhere in this populace. Something to feel beyond this small world of constant death and suffering.

I believed I could overcome my past. All of your accomplishments of the proclaimed impossible made it seem conceivable for me to overcome my own fears and achieve my own goals. I could face the wrong and make it right. I could do what I wanted to live for. As the bond between us grew I became so confident I could overcome any obstacle, as long as I had my "family" to back me up and cheer me on. Your dreams were as crazy as mine if not more. All of you. You opened up my eyes and gave me permission to dream. A chance to live how I wanted to live.

The crowd of faceless priests watched on, chanting endlessly in unison. Soft voices, belonging to those who held me, called me to sleep. My eyelids grow heavy and I permit them to shut. I no longer want to gaze upon the cold eyes of the face before me as their grip around my neck slowly tightens. My life is hanging by a single thread. I am on the edge of a cliff and yet. . . Am I panicking?  
This isn't my fault. It's not my fault. Get me out of here please.

Four hammers are raised and sharp pains radiate from my pinned limbs yet it doesn't register in my mind that something may possibly be wrong here. The idea is there but it isn't coming across, I don't feel the urge to panic or worry. Yet. The hands tighten around my throat until the force cuts off my airway. The hammering continues, each pound reverberates through my bones and shakes me. The chanting grows faster and louder as does my heartbeat. I feel my reflex to struggle kick in as I tried to move my hand, to reach up and touch the other, but my appendage doesn't move. It can't.

Does anyone wish that I were alive?

I see the sun under closed lids and I want it, to touch what I cannot feel. I can almost feel that ocean breeze on my face and I yearn for it like never before. It is the true freedom I want, to sail those seas again and forget this. I want to feel the water between my fingers and not that warm, sticky fluid that is now running down my hands. I want to see the sky. I want to feel my heartbeat rush at the first sign of danger. I want to feel. . . alive.

I can do nothing but wait in the dark. I await the for promise that was made to me to be kept. Even though. . . I feel as though it is too late. Too lost to be saved.

What am I doing here??  
I want to die, the terrible feeling of being worth nothing is so great. I just want to die. I want to stop feeling. I do not want to be here, pinned to this stone floor. I don't want to be sacrificed to carry the burden of other humans' pain and grief. I would rather have just my pain and my pain alone. I want it to remain my pain, untouched by others and for no one to know. No one to burden or hurt with. I'll take my sorrows and hide them away, scatter them so their sense is naught.

I turned my head away the best I could, briefly shifting the grip and weight on my throat. The stakes that had been driven through my hands and feet were slowly ebbing the pain away and beckoning me into a deep slumber that I do not want to submit to. Not yet. Not ever. I do not want to become one of the lifeless bodies that are scattered about me in too large of a number. They have all suffered the same sad fate. Now they are forever trapped in an eternity of sleep, never to be disturbed. Never to see the festering skin reflected in their eyes.

I have to wait for them. I will not break my promise to wait for them for they promised to help me in my time of need. I will hold true to my word as I know they will hold to theirs. My hope is all I have left. Please don't take that away from me.

My head aches as my lungs begin to scream for air but I still don't struggle. Why do I not feel then need to battle to live? I cannot put up a fight. My body does not respond to my commands to strive to live. Has my body died?

I wanted to be with you forever. I'd give up everything just to find you again. To feel that rush of living again.

Light pierces my eye lids, interrupting my thoughts and replacing them with one cognitive content: it isn't the blue purity light of the candles, it's much different. It's much more welcoming and warm on my skin.

I allow my eyes to crack open a pinch in spite of the fact that I know should not tease myself in such a way.

There, in the far wall to my right, a few of the rocks had come dislodged during the ritual, revealing a perfect window to the outside world. I can see the sun rising over the beautiful blue sea. A new day. I can almost hear the ocean waves lapping the shore, feel the breeze ruffling my hair.

My world was beginning to grow black just as I spotted something on the horizon of pink, yellow, and purple.

Something floating on the surface, far out at sea. Calm as the waves as it sailed away towards the sun to a brighter future. A ship.

I can feel the reality around me beginning to collapse before I even begin to understand what is happening. The chamber was gone with its bodies of never decaying flesh. Priests and their staffs were silenced as the lullaby ceases to ring in my ears. I feel as though there is nothing around me. Nothing for support. Nothing to keep on holding to this refuge that I so hastily built in order to protect myself.

My vision is blurring in and out of focus but there's no mistaking it. That is a ship. A ship I recognize.

_"I won't let you die. We'll get through this together. I promise."_

Horror and panic like I have never felt before has clutched me. My breath is catching in my chest. It hurts. I've never felt this kind of fear. Maybe only twice in my life, a long time ago, when I was young. . . But. . . Never have I felt it with this twist of abandonment. It's like. . .I'm dying alone. I'm losing control. I can't lose control. Not now. . .

This fake world I built around me is crumbling. It is withering away and then it's gone right before my very eyes. It feels like this Limbo that people are always talking about, always fretting over getting stuck in, hovering in nothingness. About to break. About to snap.

Promise.

Can't you see I'm falling an endless fall?

I'm falling. Falling into the reality that I never knew existed.

That's a lie. I've lied to myself. The worst thing I could ever do but it's for my own piece of mind. It is a reality I know well. But it is a reality that I never thought in which they, who I cherish most, would or could exist in.

Or have I been lying to myself about that as well? Did I really not suspect them to ever exist in this horrible reality? Or did I just not _want_ to believe they could exist in it??

The reality that I have been betrayed.

_"I promise."_

A sharp pang in my chest, my heart is filling, swelling with sorrow before an icy hand seizes and consumes it without hesitation. A glacial band forms, but even beneath that frost I can still feel my heart weeping. Bleeding.

My mind is overrun with anger at nothing in particular, but at everything that is existing around me. The realization that I have been left to die alone struck a chord in me and gave birth to such anguish I did not know I could feel. That anguish quickly twisted into vengeance and bloomed throughout my body like a creeping vine of roses. Each blossoming with a more dangerous red hue than the next. I feel nothing but frigid venom coursing through my veins as the only warmth left within me is shed through my eyes.

I gave my heart to you. You were my salvation.

Now, as I lay, I'm dying. Screaming that you'll return to me, my salvation.

Or did you forget me?

You were the one who saw through me, you read me like an open book. Now are you just going to place me back on the shelf without letting me finish my story? You violated and broke my barriers so easily, like a warm knife through butter. You pried deeper and dared to ask what I was feeling, now are you throwing that away? Are you throwing me away?

The ship is still sailing forth. Away from me. Away from my grasp. Taking my freedom with it. My dream. My life.

Don't let me die here.

You've left me without thought. Without voice.

Can't you see me bleeding? I'm losing control.

My vision is fading to black as senseless hatred is taking over me. Red is tinting my vision. Strands of darkness overtake my eyes, obscuring my vision. I think it has spread.

A feeling that I have never felt towards you ever before is rising inside of me. I feel the same with all of you. It seems odd that I should feel this way, but I cannot deny it. I cannot deny what I feel. Now so close to death. It's new, and it's intriguing. . . It's. . . _thrilling_.

_I hate you._

Somebody is screaming. Is it me? Is it somebody else?? I hear. . . more than one. I think I am screaming as well. I don't know. I've passed out of cognizance now. The world around me seems so unreal and I have never felt such hatred before towards anyone or anything. The manor. The inhabitants. _Them_. . .

A name. A name has escaped my lips and is ringing in cavern, echoing off the stony walls in an ominous fashion. A name I shall never forget.

I long to die now. At the same time I do not want to cease to exist. I never wanted to die to begin with, but I can no longer live on bearing this pain, this agonizing pain that's eating away at me from the inside. It taints my soul and corrupts my mind. I do not want to live with this misery in my life, not if there is no one there beside me who will help bear the encumbrance. This weight crushes me even now, as I try to carry it by myself. I wouldn't wish this fate upon anyone.

I watch as the ship on the horizon, the Thousand Sunny, suddenly blends into the hues of the sunrise, disappearing from my sight. As the day bore anew, the world receded before my eyes in a fantastic whirlwind of color and emotions that one should never feel upon drawing their last breath.

* * *

That was so angst-ridden I could slap myself.

Who, oh, who could it be?

If you find any grammar or spelling errors, for the love of God, please don't hesitate to tell me. Review, m'yes?


	2. Confidentiality

Zzzz.

* * *

The evening sun glowed orange in the sky as it readied its descent beyond the horizon. The ship of the Thousand Sunny floated across the tranquil waters as a gentle breeze pushed them along to their next destination.

"Oi, Chopper!" The marksman called with a devilish grin.

The daily routine of the boys' scare marathons was about to commence. You can just smell it beginning. The fear. As outlandish as most of their gibberish sounded, some of the stories succeeded in scaring a few members of the crew, making the chance of attaining any sleep what so ever rather difficult at nighttime.

"Hmah?" Chopper turned to look over his shoulder.

Chopper, possibly the most gullible crew member aboard the Sunny. As loved to death as he is, he tended to believe many things (everything) he was told all too easily. He was also the one that got scared often during the night, disturbing the other slumbering members of the crew. They all understood his nightly outbursts, which have thankfully decreased over the months he has been out at sea with them, and they helped him slowly get over his fears whatever they may be. As much as Nami disapproved of the other boys sharing ghost stories and involving the little reindeer she just couldn't tell him that he had to go somewhere else while the others had their fun. Besides, Franky had said, it will help him become a man. Psh, yeah. Because waking up almost every night screaming your head off and waking everybody else helps you become a man.

"Have you ever heard of the Death Coach??" Usopp asked in a eerie voice.

"The Death Coach??" Chopper gaped in awe, torn between being intrigued and horrified.

"Yes, yes!" Usopp nodded. "The Death Coach is a black, closed coach with dark gaping holes where the windows should be."  
"Eh??"  
"I want to hear it! I want to hear it!" Luffy called as he bounded over with such merriment you would think that Usopp was telling the story of Peter Cotton Tail hopping down the bunny trail.

The marksman said in a low voice. "The front shafts of the coach are empty, but you can clearly hear the sound of hooves against the pavement as it is pulled along, collecting the souls of the dead. It comes for those on their death bed, in the still of the night where mortals only get a glimpse of it. It is indeed a terrifying sight to behold."

"Can a living being ride the coach??" Chopper asked.

"That's a very excellent question, Chopper-" Usopp pulled the reindeer closer and leaned in. "For you see, it just so happens that I, the brave Captain Usopp have ridden upon one of these-"

"Impossible." A curt voice cut him off, killing Usopp's spirit instantly.

Five heads turned, the extra two being Franky and Brook, who had gotten absorbed in the story somewhere along the way, to look at the blond cook as he came up the stairs. One hand tucked in his pocket while the other balanced a tray of drinks for the crew members. Just a light beverage for the evening.

"You can't follow the dead, because once you do, you can never come back." He said simply. "Nami-san, Robin-chan. Here are your drinks."

Nami nodded her head. "Thank you, Sanji-kun."  
"Thank you very much, Cook-san." The archaeologist smiled softly at him as she accepted the glass.

The ladies took the first sips of their drink as the boys seized theirs. Sanji balanced the last two on the tray so they wouldn't tip over and cause a mess.

"Oi, Marimo." Sanji called, holding out the glass towards the swordsman. "Come get yours."

"Hmph." The swordsman's brow furrowed. "I don't want it."

The blond frowned, chewing on his cigarette. He opened his mouth to say something but he was interrupted by Robin's soothing voice.

"Where did you hear that line, Cook-san?" Robin asked. Her fingers twiddled with the paper umbrella.

"Oh, uh, it's just an old saying. . ." The cook mumbled, momentarily distracted from the rage he was about to unleash on the first mate. "The old man back on Baratie told me."

"What about Skinny-bones, here?" Franky asked, patting the skeleton heartily on the back and almost causing him to drop his drink.

Sanji stared at the skeleton with a deadpan look. "Shitty-skeleton doesn't count."

"HA?!" Brook's jaw dropped, almost losing his straw in the process.

"Technically, Musician-san, you are still "alive"." Robin said.

"Ah. You are absolutely right, my lady. How silly of me!"

"Hey, Usopp!" Chopper hopped up and down excitedly. "Do you have anymore scary stories???"  
"Hmm, maybe. . ." Usopp rubbed his chin and eyed the cook. "Maybe some popcorn will jog my memory. Oh if only, if only there was someone here who could whip us up some popcorn-."

"I get the hint, Long-nose!" Sanji threw his hands in the air. "You're lucky I'm in a giving mood right now."

"Yay!" Chopper and Luffy danced around. "Popcorn! Popcorn! We get popcorn!"  
"Could you bring some Cola too, Curly???" Franky called.

"Don't push your luck!!!"

As Usopp engaged in the story of the tale of Bloody Mary, the smell of popcorn soon wafted through the air. The popcorn was brought out and Cola was served. The boys probably wouldn't be sleeping well tonight.

"From that day to this, anyone foolish enough to chant Bloody Mary's name three times before a darkened mirror will summon the vengeful spirit of the witch."

"What happens if you do?" Luffy asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

"Well, it is said that she will tear their bodies to pieces and rip their souls from their mutilated bodies." The marksman explained, giving himself chills. "The souls of these unfortunate ones will burn in torment as Bloody Mary once was burned, and they will be trapped forever in the mirror. "

"Hey, Franky! I dare you to go chant Bloody Mary three times in the bathroom mirror!"

"Let's not. . ."

"GAAAAH!!" Chopper screamed as he pressed his hat down on his head. "I don't want Bloody Mary to tear me to pieces!!"

"That story gave me goosebumps, but, alas, I don't have any skin in which to get goosebumps on!"

The skeleton laugh as he, Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper all cried "SKULL JOKE" and commenced rolling around on deck in a fit of hysterics.

"Hey, Zoro!!" Luffy called. "Aren't you scared that Bloody Mary will come for you??"  
"Like hell I am." The swordsman scoffed.

"Would you go and chant "Bloody Mary" three times in a mirror?"

Zoro frowned. "Now why would I waste my time in doing that?"

"I dunno, because you're _scared_, maybe?" Usopp laughed.

The marksman was quickly silenced with a look that promised a fate worse than Bloody Mary.

When the boys had their little scary story time it was the time where Zoro did not want to be around, because then he would have Chopper and sometimes Usopp clinging to him for protection. That and he didn't believe in any of the stories they told, especially when they came from the long-nosed liar. When it was time to turn in he made sure to put in the ear plugs good and tight, that way, in the morning he'd not only get the satisfaction of a good night's sleep, but he'd also sometimes get to see a very disgruntled and sleep-deprived cook.

Zoro was beginning to believe they used this story time to initiate some sort of game, who could tell the most scary story and have the longer after effect. Like they wanted to see their friends suffer at night. Because it was always oh so wonderful to have someone rocket into your bed when you least expect it and jerk you awake to scare the living daylights out of you.

A glass was shoved before his face. Zoro blinked and looked up to see a placid faced cook standing before him.

"What do you want?" Zoro growled, putting on his best scowl.

Sanji matched him. "I made one for everyone. This is yours. Now take it."

"Well, I don't want it, shitty cook." Zoro ignored the cup.

He was half surprised when the cook withdrew the glass and then gazed at Zoro through half-lidded eyes, before turning on his heel and walking towards the kitchen.

Zoro rolled his eyes. He didn't need the shit cook nor did he want his damn drink, but he glared at the man nonetheless as he walked away. It was rare to see the other man walk away from him without an act of any sort of violence. Hm, maybe he wasn't feeling up to fighting Zoro. Ha, not that he could ever match the swordsman's skills.

As much as Zoro would have liked to chuckle to himself at that though he didn't feel the laugh bubble and rise in his throat. Darn, it would have been fun to scare the others.

With a great sigh and a roll of his eyes, Zoro slapped his knees as he stood up. The others ignored him as he tread across the lawn deck and up the stairs. With a firm hand he grabbed the knob and turned, stepping inside without hesitation. He braced himself for a kick or a pan to the face at any moment. The aggression never came.

"What do you want, marimo?" Sanji growled. It seems he was already beginning to prepare dinner. "I'm kind of busy and I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

"Who said I wanted to deal with you either?" Zoro said as he sat down in one of the dining table chairs. He was purposefully trying to push the cook's buttons before he could push Zoro's. Like the boys' scare game, Sanji and Zoro had a game of their own they liked to play almost all of the time; see who could piss off the other first.

"Well, if you don't want to deal with _me_ either then what are you doing in here?" The blond asked. "I'm sort of required to be in here, which means I won't be leaving to relieve you of your undesired stress. In other words: get the fuck out. You'd be doing both of us a favor."

"What if I don't want to?"  
"First you deny my beautiful creation that I spent so much hard work on and now you come in here just to annoy the hell out of me." Sanji gritted his teeth. "You are a real jackass, did you know that?"  
"Hey." Zoro shrugged as he leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head. "I'm not doing anything at all to annoy you." He placed his feet up on the table. "It's all inside that big head of yours."

"Ignoring that last comment, when I turn around I had better not see your filthy shoes on my kitchen table or there will be severe consequences." The cook threatened menacingly, but he didn't turn around. Zoro didn't care, he wouldn't move unless he had to. "It doesn't require you to do anything to annoying me." Sanji spat. "Just your very existence is annoying to me."

"Wow, that hurts." The swordsman clutched his chest. "That really hurts."

Sanji chose to not respond to him, he resumed his cooking. He could feel eyes piercing the back of his head. The blond wasn't one to feel unfamiliar with someone watching him as he cooked, usually he didn't pay any attention to it, but, just because he knew just exactly _who_ was staring at him made him. . . uneasy. Zoro was Zoro and had Zoro-ish thoughts, thoughts that Sanji didn't quite always understand, but when it came to the subject of Sanji himself, he knew Zoro wasn't thinking of him skipping through a field of brightly colored flowers, rainbows, and butterflies while singing the happy song all the way to grandmother's house.

Or was he?

Sanji shuddered. His reflex to cover up this action forced him to slam the small pan he was holding down on the stove top. With a sigh he leaned heavily against the counter on both hands, growing weary of this game. "Is there something on your little mind, marimo? If it actually exists that is."

The swordsman smirked mentally, he was aggravating the blond. As far as a physical response, Zoro only stared at the back of the blond's head.

"Because, unfortunately, I am not a mind reader, never have been, and I don't like playing these guessing games with you."

Whether or not the swordsman realized it, he was taking way to damn long to answer the cook, and Sanji didn't have the time nor patience to fuck around with him tonight. He had only been in a forgiving mood with the boys because he found it to be in his best interest that he gave them snacks. It opened a window of opportunity in which Luffy would keep quiet and occupied while the cook prepared dinner, in peace. Now how to get rid a certain shit head swordsman. . . If Sanji knew the answer to that he wouldn't be having this problem right now, now would he?

Desperate to get the green haired man to go away, Sanji opened his mouth to tell the marimo to just take some booze and fuck off, but Zoro spoke first.

"When are you going to tell Chopper?" He finally said, all joking put aside.  
A pale hand froze, the sharp kitchen knife held laxly in its grip threatened to drop to the floor any moment now.

The boiling water was the loudest sound in the room as steam rose up from the large pot on the stove. Outside Chopper was yelling about a ghost touching him and the sounds of him running around on deck could barely be heard over Luffy and the others laughing. The sun would be setting sometime soon now. Its telltale rays of soft light peeked through the galley's windows, bouncing off the metal objects that the cook kept so well polished.

Sanji resumed chopping the vegetables. _Thunk thunk thunk_. "Tell Chopper what?"

Zoro kept a straight face, resisting the urge to glare at the man. "You know what I'm talking about."

He hadn't even said "You _should_ tell Chopper." or "_Are_ you going to tell Chopper?". He went straight to the point like he _expected _him to tell the ship's doctor. Guaranteed, the next time around it will become a demand, and if that isn't heeded then there was no doubt the swordsman would go and tell Chopper himself what was on his mind.

"What is there to tell him?"

Zoro frowned, no longer able to refrain from making a face. The cook was playing dumb with him. That was a game the man was incredibly good at.

"If you don't tell him now it could very well get out of hand, you know that, right?" The man raised an eyebrow. "Do I have to tell him before that happens?"

"Why are you so suddenly concerned about it?" Sanji snapped.

The frown remained on Zoro's face. He didn't reply.

"What's this?" Sanji asked, chuckling slightly. "Nothing to say now?"

Saying that didn't make it feel like a battle won. Not only did he feel like he had spat out a lame remark, but he felt as though he may have just provoked an argument from the other man.  
Zoro's eyes narrowed. "Look at you, putting on a front. What are you trying to hide?"

Sanji remained impassive to him. "I'm not hiding anything."

Again, for a while Zoro did not respond. Usually there were not this many pauses in their conversations. Then again, they didn't actually "converse" often. They'd rather kick and beat the shit out of each other as a form of communication.

Sanji heard Zoro growl in the back of his throat.

"Look, there's no reason for me to worry him about it." Sanji spoke calmly. "It isn't that big of a deal. So, just stop bringing it up."

"It seemed like that big of a deal a few nights ago." Came Zoro's emotionless reply.

Despite the fact the man had his back turned to him, Zoro could tell Sanji's features had darkened as his shoulders went rigid under his black suit jacket.

Sanji lowered his gaze. "I went to you in confidentiality, because I didn't think you would tell anyone."

"I haven't."

"But you want to." Sanji pointed out. "You want _me_ to."

"This isn't like you wet the bed or anything like that." Zoro argued.

"No, because that could mean I have a kidney infection. Which would be serious, unlike the current matter at hand."

"Why," Zoro rand a hand through his hair. "just, why do you have to argue about it??"

"Why do you have to _make_ it into an argument??"

To be honest, Zoro couldn't solidly validate why he wanted Sanji to go to Chopper. Maybe it was because of that first night, when he woke the swordsman up with heavy breathing, a request escaping past his lips in a hushed whisper. The strange way he held Zoro's wrist tightly like he would lose himself if he let go. . . It had made Zoro feel something he hadn't wanted to feel, this, vulnerability, that he sensed from the cook that night frightened him. Maybe it wasn't easy for Sanji to think about, but it had taken Zoro by surprise, and never left his mind since then. He had refrained from bringing it up, for what happened that night and the night after stayed between him and Sanji. Everything went back to normal the next day, like it never ever occurred.

The swordsman decided to give a different strategy a try. Something not so straightforward and blunt.

"What if. . ." Zoro proposed. "What if I said I was concerned. What if I am worried about you?"  
That got a better response from the cook than expected. The blond turned and looked at Zoro with a solemn expression.

"Then I would tell you that it isn't anything to be concerned about and don't be so worried about me."

"It's-"

"SANJI!!!" Came their captain's call. "The popcorn is all gone!!

Both Sanji and Zoro looked to the wooden galley door where the voice had come from.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Let the ladies and the other shit heads know for me, will you?"

Zoro opened his mouth to protest, or at least let out an insult, but it died on his tongue as he gave in and stood from his seat.

He had come in here with the intent to annoy Sanji into oblivion so he would finally have no choice but to give up and talk to the doctor, but Zoro had the feeling it all backfired. Instead, now both of them felt like shit. Zoro felt shitty for bringing it up, it shouldn't be talked about really, but what if it started occurring more often? They may soon need a therapist aboard. And Zoro didn't want the other man to think that he was going to use this as some sort of leverage over him. Sanji probably felt like shit too since Zoro was showing. . . "concern" about this. If that's what you wanted to call it.

Sanji didn't look at anyone, not even the women, in the eye at dinner that night. Nobody but Zoro seemed to notice.

Luffy, Usopp, and Franky became engaged in a pillow fight that night while preparing for bed. It could be said that Chopper was involved in the pillow fight too but he was being used as ammo, much to his disdain, but Zoro wasn't so sure if that counted.

The door opened, momentarily frightening the men into thinking the short tempered navigator had come with very angry thoughts in mind. It was just the cook who had finally finished cleaning the dishes and putting away after dinner. They others relaxed and resumed their rough housing, enjoying the time they had before the fist came down.

"Bombardment!!" Franky shouted, chucking a pillow at Luffy only to hit Brook full on in the face.

"Thank goodness I have no eyes." Brook laughed.

Sanji stepped lightly over the mess that had been caused by the battle. Zoro couldn't help but watch as the blond made his way to his locker and got ready to turn in for the night. He didn't pay any attention to the pillow that struck him in the back of the head, ruffling his short green hair. As long as it wasn't accompanied by another one he would dismiss it as an accident, a misfire. Besides, he could always severely beat them later if they weren't by the demon witch. It was a wonder she hadn't come in here yet to pulverize their skulls for making such a racket. Sanji, however, drew that line with his foot when a projectile, also known as Chopper, smashed into the back of his head causing him to head butt his locker painfully.

After much panic and chaos of attempts to escape the sudden outburst, a heartfelt "Sowwy" was given by the four in unison, their thoroughly abused faces made it difficult to speak clearly.

The peace was short lived as they all fought for a bunk that wasn't right next to the door.

"I don't want to be the first to die if an ax-wielding murder comes in here!" Usopp complained.

"That totally convinces the rest of us to sleep by the door."  
"Wait a minute." Brook interrupted. "Wouldn't you want to be close by the door? That you can be the first one out of the room if a ghost decided to walk through the wall."  
"I thought you had watch tonight anyway, Usopp." Chopper looked up at the marksman who had gone considerably pale at that statement.

"Oh. . . that's right. . . Uh." Usopp bit his lip as his eyes darted about the room. "Anyone wanna take my place?"

No one leaped at that opportunity. Night watch was pretty boring anyway. You had to have the right mindset to enjoy staring out into the vast ocean waters during night. The boys, after their story telling, were definitely not willing to go sit up there alone and secluded.

An idea popped into Zoro's head, he abruptly stood up. "I'll take it."

The others turned and stared at him. Sanji paused just as he was taking off his shirt, but remained with his back facing the swordsman, acting as if he hadn't been fazed in the slightest. Usopp, surprised by the first mate's sudden generosity, looked at him disbelievingly.

"Are you sure, Zoro? But. . . don't you have the watch after me?" The marksman frowned and placed his hands on his hips. "Are you just pulling my leg?"

"Oh! Haha, Zoro made a funny!" Luffy slapped his back. "You're such a jerk, Zoro! Good one!"

"I don't joke. When I say I'll take your shift, Usopp, I mean I'll take your shift." The swordsman scratched the back of his head. "Unless you don't want me to and you _want_ to sit up there. Alone."

"Ahaha! No! That's okay, Zoro!" Usopp waved his hands. "You can take my shift if you insist! By all means go ahead!"

"That's what I thought." The man chuckled darkly.

"I have a feeling he's going to use this against me later." Usopp mumbled. "He must be learning from Nami."

"Is this some kind of new endurance training, Zoro?" Chopper asked, slightly wary of Zoro's decision.

"No." The swordsman shook his head, growing a tad irritated. "If you don't like it, would anybody else like to take watch?"  
Nobody raised their hand or stepped forward.

"I didn't think so."

There was no remark as he made his leave about how he didn't need the sleep anyway considering how much he slept almost all day. Before Zoro disappeared through the door, he caught a piercing blue eye, gazing at him with a look that Zoro could not place as he left the men's quarters for the long night ahead of him.

* * *

I love my reviewers~~


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